


Lover, Lover

by MostlyAnon



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Banter, Deep Roads, Exes, F/M, Jealousy, Past Relationships, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 13:35:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3383486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostlyAnon/pseuds/MostlyAnon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I figured, she was a friend of yours, she would know Hawke…” The Inquisitor trailed off, lapsing into thoughtful silence. After a minute, she added: “I’m starting to think maybe I just introduced your current lover to your ex?”</p>
<p>“Something like that, yeah,” Varric said. “Only more complicated and involving a much higher probability for violence.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hawke sticks around after the Fade and Bianca shows up to do her damsel thing. Varric has a really fun day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lover, Lover

“Well, shit.”

Varric didn’t have to look up to know that the Inquisitor was doing her best to look angelic, an expression better suited to the mammoth statues of the hall than her sharper features. Instead, he watched the horror show before him, unable to tear his gaze away. It had all the disastrous possibility of a rift, but without the comfort of demons and horrors.

Two women stood talking by the fire, a mammoth hound resting by the feet of the human. Hawke had been saved a trip to Weisshaupt by Blackwall, the other man pointing out that the legend of Kirkwall was more use to the Inquisition than a lowly Warden. Varric hadn’t been of mind to argue the turn of events, not when that legend spent most of the time since watching his back or in his bed. He felt more than a little jealous of the wayward Warden, now, though.

Hawke was standing in idle conversation with Bianca, who was there because of course she was there, that was his particular type of luck. Three years since he’d seen her in the flesh and she shows up now.

“I guess I forgot to tell you,” the Inquisitor said, her voice a little too casual. “A woman named Bianca arrived, looking for you.”

“You don’t say?” he deadpanned, still unable to look away. Hawke wasn’t reaching for her sword and Bianca didn’t _seem_ to have any grenades out…

“I figured, she was a friend of yours, she would know Hawke…” The Inquisitor trailed off, lapsing into thoughtful silence. After a minute, she added: “I’m starting to think maybe I just introduced your current lover to your ex?”

“Something like that, yeah,” Varric said. “Only more complicated and involving a much higher probability for violence.”

“Against each other or you?” the Inquisitor inquired.

“Did I do something specific to piss you off?” he asked. “Is this about giving the book to Cassandra?”

“Do you want back up?” she asked. “I can go round up Bull and Sera. They probably haven’t gone far. We’re only down three potions. We can probably take them. We’ve beaten giants with less.”

Varric looked up at her, finally. “You should be kinder to me, or I’ll write your biography,” he threatened. 

***

Hawke was silent.

She wasn’t all that chatty to begin with, but even her hound seemed downright talkative compared to her, since they’d set out for the mine. It made Varric jumpy. She’d known about Bianca, of course, known about her for years, but knowing and helping her out were two different things. It didn’t help that the Inquisitor had practically insisted Hawke come along, seeming to enjoy Varric’s obvious discomfort.

They met Bianca at the entrance to the mine, pausing to regroup. Bull let the Inquisitor question Bianca about the situation, sympathetic amusement in his gaze when he met Varric’s eyes, but even the qunari wasn’t about to step into the mess that had become Varric’s life. Hawke left them to their talk, instead casing the area, hound roaming ahead. She was rolling her arm in a way that meant her pauldron was catching and loose, and for a minute, Varric lost track of Bianca and the Inquisitor’s conversation to wave her over. Hawke knelt in front of him without needing to be told, allowing him better access to the buckles and straps across her back.

“Can you fight?” Hawke asked Bianca.

“She’s a decent shot,” he told her, fixing the strap. Bianca’s protest was immediate and he grumbled at her as he checked the rest of Hawke’s harder to reach buckles. To his surprise, Hawke blew out half a laugh when he admitted to Bianca’s being a better shot, taking the statement as a joke.

She looked at the woman as she rose and rolled her shoulder one last time, drawing her sword in a smooth movement. 

“We’ll probably get a chance to test that claim,” Hawke said. She whistled sharply to bring her hound back to her side, and the beast spat an arm out at her feet. She nudged it with her foot.

“At least it’s not spiders,” Hawke said, sounding almost cheerful.

***

Bianca had made a mistake.

More than one, by Hawke’s count, but she could see it in the way the other woman flitted on with Varric, the too casual conversation. There was something serious below the surface, something more than just the nervousness of being in your exlover’s current lover’s company, and Hawke was more than patient in waiting for that mistake to jump out and try to ambush them. 

That was what having people show back up in your life meant, she knew from long experience. It always meant someone was going to try and kill you. It always meant something was being kept secret. It always meant pain.

She couldn’t spare Varric that pain, but she could be sure to have his back, so she concentrated on that instead, ignoring the quips and daggers that the dwarven woman fired her way. She liked working side by side with the qunari— he reminded her of Fenris, though his swing was wider.

She didn’t miss the way the Inquisitor’s eyes narrowed when Bianca disdained Varric’s new “day-to-day,” the subtly implied insult of it. She wondered what Bianca had expected from him, where she thought he had found his stake in the Deep Roads, and wondered again when the woman made mention of not hearing from Varric since Hawke herself had left Kirkwall.  
***

“Varric said I’d find you up here.”

Hawke turned her head slightly to look at the woman who’d become the spearhead of the world’s hope. She’d been sitting comfortably up in the ramparts, cleaning her sword and enjoying the song of the wind in the mountains, but heard the woman’s approach, despite light steps.   “It’s a good view,” Hawke said, stilling her hands but not rising. She looked up at the other woman.

“I thought you’d be down with him,” the Inquisitor said, bluntly, dropping to sit beside her. “If one of Bull’s ex lovers showed up…”

Hawke looked at her and arched an eyebrow. “If?” she echoed.

The Inquisitor took that as her due, nodding. “Right, that doesn’t quite fit when he’s slept with half the staff already. But still, aren’t you worried?”

Hawke leaned her head back against the cool stone, thinking it over. Inquisitor was the right title for the woman— she asked questions regardless of tact or right. But Hawke remembered doing the same of her crew, checking on them after missions, mending fences, helping heal wounds that weren’t always visible, constantly tending to them. They had been _hers,_ and she had been damned if she would let rot fester or consume them.

It had taken Anders from her, despite everything. The ache of it opened inside her, old, familiar.

“He doesn’t need me around for their goodbye,” she said, finally. The Inquisitor didn’t respond, left the silence open for her to fill, and Hawke sighed, began to clean her sword again. “I’m not leaving,” she finally said. “I don’t need to worry. I’ll be here.”

“So no threats about my eyeballs?” the Inquisitor asked, with half a smile.

Hawke shook her head at that, blowing out another breath. “You have an entire army behind you. My threats wouldn’t scare you.”

The Inquistor cocked her head and shrugged, then nodded once, sharply. “It’s been nice talking to you,” she said, her tone stating that she still wasn’t sure what had been said. Hawke let her arms rest, fingertips pressed against the smooth metal of the flat blade across her lap.

“She’s gone,” she said, finally, her lips half curved.

Varric drifted out of the shadows. For as loud as he was, it was easy to forget he was a rogue born. “You can be pretty scary,” he pointed out, sitting down beside her.

Hawke turned to look at him, studying his face carefully. Whatever she was searching for, she found, because the budding smile blossomed. “I’ve beaten armies before.”


End file.
